A Demon's Plight
by FanFictionBay
Summary: It has been over a century since the events which took place in Victorian Era England, and the Black Butler himself is struggling to adjust to his current lifestyle as the majority shareholder of the Funtom Company. Driven underground and living in secrecy, Sebastian Michaelis dwells on the events that led him down this path, and awaits a mysterious guest.


The reflection of a vast spectrum of neon lights shimmered in glowing puddles along the streets of Hong Kong. Nearby buildings were dwarfed by skyscrapers that looked more like outstretched fingers reaching for the swollen, dark clouds overhead. Despite the lackluster weather and the late hour, this downtrodden area of Hong Kong was still very much alive. It was the kind of place a man would go to lose himself. Drugs, women, men who looked like women, these things only scratched the surface of what one could find to get into in this seedy corner of a city like this. There were plenty of areas for those of note to go to and participate in all of the aforementioned vices. Places where money would buy you just about anything, including the silence and privacy powerful men required when looking for an escape. Tonight however, one of the most powerful businessmen visiting the city didn't reside in the lap of luxury, and instead found himself in the bowels of a freshly renovated dance club named Pulse.

The thumping bass echoing from within the club could be felt vibrating the concrete sidewalk which ran along the front of the club where velvet ropes and bouncers in black on black suits invited in occasional selections of those waiting in line outside. If one were to pass through the front doors of Pulse, they'd first find themselves in a long crimson hallway with lights that flickered with each 'thump' of the bass. The ceilings were eerily high, allowing for abstract paintings to scale the tall walls on either side of the hall. At the end of the hall, the path appeared to open up into the club, but instead only led into another hallway, this one made of solid glass which wrapped all the way around the interior of the club's inner bowl, a circular dance floor with a DJ at the helm. Lights of all colors flashed to the beat, and party-goers shuffled in and out of the club. Those leaving were typically splattered with some sort of neon paint, though none appeared to be upset about it.

Though there were numerous bars, VIP rooms, and a packed dance floor, the most notable of those presently inside of Pulse had no interest in partaking in any of the festivities. In the back of the club, through a maze-like array of hallways much like the one at the entrance, and up a spiral stair case was a heavily guarded room, with a steel door that required a sixteen digit pass-code to enter, as if what resided within was some sort of precious treasure. The room within looked as though it belonged on the top floor of one of the neighboring skyscrapers, rather than the backroom of a dance club. Sitting at a large oak desk, in a tall leather chair, sat Sebastian Michaelis...though few knew him by his name. In fact, none of the men in his employ knew his name, and referred to him only as 'Sir'. The word among the bodyguards was that their employer was some sort of corporate powerhouse, and they were right. Sebastian was the majority shareholder of the Funtom Corporation, a towering, cutthroat titan of industry that grew from a toy and game company, to the leader in cutting edge technology.

But this was not Sebastian's choice. To become a baron of enterprise was a ridiculous order, but one that had to be fulfilled; his master commanded it. A master manipulator whose soul was just within Sebastian's grasp had turned the tables on the very demon he had swore his soul to. To many, he was merely a boy. A cold young man all those years ago, but in truth he was something far more sinister, a boy who could enter into psychological warfare with a demon and walked away not only unscathed, but more powerful than anyone could have imagined him to be.

Sebastian shuddered at the thought, grimacing at his own reaction to even the passing imagination of his master. The only master Sebastian knew for over a century now. The one whose soul he would never taste.

The dapper, ivory skinned demon sat at his desk, fingertips tapping in succession against the surface while his crimson eyes remained locked on the door, awaiting his guest for the evening. He wore a black suit with the same red hue of his eyes to match as the secondary color. He breathed a quiet sigh through his nostrils and crossed his legs before parting his lips to emit a soliloquy in regards to his current predicament.

"Driven underground by these pathetic beings...the shame is unbearable," Sebastian spat, casting a sideways glance towards a large clock hanging on the wall to his left, "Tick tock, tick tock..."

Tempering his innermost frustrations long enough to bring his pulse to a calm rhythm, the rampant tapping of his fingers against the desk falling in line with his utterances of each 'tick' and 'tock' of the clock, Sebastian brought his eyes to a close. Soon even the bass pumping out of the speakers inside Pulse were nothing more than a hushed thump that gently rattled against Sebastian's thoroughly polished shoes. As he lost himself to thought, memories played out in his mind as if it were only yesterday that the scenes had unfolded.

"Young Master, are you certain that the relic is here?"

Ciel Phantomhive led the way through a darkened, damp underground passageway, shadowed by his ever watchful butler, who was armed with a torch. The two of them were dressed in heavy coats, Ciel in his typical navy blue, and Sebastian in black. "Do you doubt my abilities, Sebastian?" Ciel wore a confident grin as he pushed onward into the darkness, "Her Majesty directed us, and the Knights Templar are right here in Prague, just as we suspected. The Spear of Baphomet is most certainly here in their possession."

The facts seemed to point towards an ancient relic being hidden beneath the streets of Prague, but something wasn't right. Sebastian was far too keen to believe that they could merely waltz into a Templar sanctuary and take what they claimed as their own long ago. The passageway was made of a smooth, dark stone, lit up by small basins of hot coals and flames along the path which Ciel and his butler walked. As they reached the end, a massive opening gave way to a hollowed out temple, with black silk banisters and stone pews at the feet of two massive effigies. They had wandered into the belly of the beast.

"This is it Sebastian, we've made it!" The young Lord did not miss a step, making a beeline straight for a pedestal rested between the two effigies. Sebastian, however, took his time as he entered, eying the vivid murals that painted the walls of the room. Tales from centuries passed, centuries that Sebastian had seen with his own eyes as he served out previous Faustian contracts.

"Caution, my Lord," Sebastian muttered as his eyes traced along the painting of a red eyed demon being burned alive, "These are not amateurs."

Caution had been thrown to the wind long before Sebastian could warn his master. Ciel Phantomhive, for some reason, had traded in his methodical nature for something entirely different. For once, the boy seemed desperate.

"I've found it!" Ciel cried as he hoisted a golden, jewel encrusted spear taller than his frame itself into the air, "It's mine!"

The look painted on Ciel's features was not that of the Phantomhive Lord that Sebastian had come to know. This boy was manic, eyes wide with obsession. Or was it possession? There was little time to decipher just what was unfolding, distant shouts could be heard. Clamoring footsteps were echoing doing the passageway as a dozen or more (by Sebastian's count) Templars were approaching at full speed.

"Sebastian, you'll let no harm come to me, that is an order!"

Sebastian spun about on his heels, drawing an assortment of silverware from his coat, a grin on his lips.

"Yes, my Lo-"

His voice fell silent, drowned out by the sound of a blade piercing flesh, a searing pain unlike anything Sebastian had experienced before gripped his body completely. The knives and forks bearing the Phantomhive crest clattered to the stone floor beneath him, his gaze lowering to his chest to find the bloodied tip of the Spear of Baphomet had impaled his chest entirely.

Sebastian Michaelis had been defeated so soundly, so swiftly. His lips parted in a failed attempt to find words, to plea mercy, to question this fate. His master's voice echoed from behind him, darker, bolder than any time before.

"Checkmate."

Minutes began to feel more like seconds, until a smirk found itself on Sebastian's lips. Though he had been robbed of many of his demonic abilities, he was always able to sense the presence of those he was anticipating.

"Ah, finally. He has arrived."

At this moment, a long, jet black limo pulled up to the front of Pulse. The driver, and accompanying guards, returned from picking up a certain person of interest. Sebastian rose to his feet and unlocked the massive door that barred him from the rest of the world, beginning to pace with his fingers laced behind his back. It was unlike Sebastian to request assistance, or to need assistance in the first place, but tonight's reunion would be a necessary evil.


End file.
